


Where You Belong

by SmartassUndertheMountain



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, Original Character(s), POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Smut, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:51:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmartassUndertheMountain/pseuds/SmartassUndertheMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: You and H/N (insert man of your dreams) have been dating for quite a while. You’re in your senior year of college, but he’s a few years older, already in a steady job. You’re madly in love, and even though you’ve not been intimate it doesn’t stop the two of you from teasing each other. You want him to be your first and he wants your first time to be special. Fluff, smut, and hopefully something that makes you go “Awwww.”</p><p> </p><p>Y/N = Your name<br/>L/N = Your last name<br/>H/N = His name (any “him” that you wish)<br/>HL/N – His last name</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waiting

            “Still in the laundry room?”

            “Yes.”

            “Come back. You can forget about the clothes for a bit.”

            “There is less than thirty minutes left. I’m not walking home just to have to turn around and walk back to get my clothes.”

            “Home?”

            “… It is when you’re there.”

            “I love you, Y/N.”

            “I love you, too. Be back soon.”

            You hung up and turned back to your computer. You hadn’t wanted to abandon him alone in your dorm room, but he had surprised you on laundry morning and you didn’t want to run out clean underwear. Sighing you picked up your computer and started to work on some homework. There was always more to do: another assignment to be turned in, or mountains of reading to be done.

            You heard the dryer beep in the deserted laundry room and dutifully you went to gather your clothes. They were warm but didn’t smell the same as when your mother would do your laundry. You made a mental note to find out what detergent she used. Folding went fairly quickly. You were pleased to find out that you hadn’t lost any socks this time. It didn’t take long to gather your stuff and leave the depressing dorm laundry basement.

            It was a quick walk to your own dorm. Juggling a laundry basket, your keys and the door was never easy, but you had motivation to return. He was there. Navigating through the hall you stood in front of your door and saw it slightly ajar. Using your foot to nudge it open, you stepped inside.

            “I didn’t want you struggling to open the door,” he explained before you could ask. He was leaning against your desk, weight evenly distributed between his rear and hands. Long legs stretched out in front of him. His beautiful hair was clearly ruffed from the wind, but somehow it added to his appeal. A white button down with sleeves rolled up to the elbows complimented his build, and blue jeans made him look effortlessly sexy and casual at the same time.

            “Thank you,” it was an afterthought, and he knew it. He saw the way you looked at him. He chuckled and you shook your head, beginning to put away your clothes. 

            “Let me help,” he murmured in your ear, reaching down to hold up a pair of panties. “Cute. Don’t think I’ve seen these before. New?” He showed off a wolfish grin.

            “Considering that the only time you’ve seen my underwear is when you help me put away laundry, I’m not surprised. But yes, they are fairly new,” you blushed. Normally he wasn’t so . . . . whatever this was. He limited talk about sex to the occasional innuendo or joke, and usually when he could tell you were in a mood that you could laugh at that sort of humor.

            “Blushing, are we?”

            “Maybe.”

“Come here,” he beckoned, still hold your purple cotton panties in his hand, but now it was like he’d forgotten that he was holding them. You moved to stand in front of him and he wrapped his arms around the small of your back. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, you know you just have to tell me to stop, right?”

            “I know.”

            “I never want to make you uncomfortable with me, or push you into anything.”

            “I know. I-I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you stutter a bit, wanting him to know but not wanting to tell him. “I was blushing because,” you looked down at his feet bracketing yours and took a deep breath, then looked up at him. “Because I want you.”

            His eyes widened ever so slightly and you heard his breath catch. His eyes kept contact with yours, but he didn’t speak. You continued, not liking the silence, “I’ve wanted you for a long time, on much more than an emotional level. I’ve never wanted so strongly in my life. Sometimes it feels as though I won’t be able to control myself and that scares me.”

            Silently he lifted one hand to your face, lightly running his thumb across your cheekbone. He smiled gently and leaned down to kiss you on your forehead, the bridge of your nose, the tip of your nose, then finally delicately pressing his mouth to yours. He rested his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed.

            “My need for you terrifies me,” he whispered. “There are days when all I can think about is the sway of your hips when you walk, or the feel of your skin against mine,” he emphasized his point by brushing his hand along your right arms, so lightly that you could barely feel it, but it raised goose bumps. “The way your lips move with my lips,” he breathed, your lips were inches apart. His hands slipped down to your hips, pulling your body closer to his. “I lay awake in bed at night imagining what it would be like if you were there with me; what it would be like to feel you beneath me, to make you cry out my name.”

            Your heart beat faster at his words, whispered between you as though you had been lovers for ages. Your lack of experience had never been an issue. You’d been exclusive for nine months, and he’d never pressured you, telling you he would wait until you were sure you were ready. Now you wanted him more than you ever had before.

            You whispered his name and he responded with a kiss. He had control from the very beginning and you let him keep it. He kept the tempo slow, moving his lips against yours gently, lazily letting his tongue flick out to taste you. Teeth bit down lightly on your lower lip and you gasped, giving him more than enough access to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

            As your tongue met his, it was like a fire ignited in both of you. Passion rushed into you and you poured it into the kiss. His strong hands fluttered down to your hips, pressing you flush against him as you gripped his shoulders for support. As his lips moved to your jawline his hands move to your rear, massaging you on one end, biting and kissing on the other. You knew your neck would be covered in marks, but you didn’t tell him to stop.

            When he’d kissed you on your neck before it was gentle little pecks that made you giggle and lean into his touch, leading to cuddling on the couch. This alternating between licking, biting, and kissing was going to drive you mad. It was gentle and rough, and you wanted more. When he kissed the hollow of your neck you gasped and tangled your hands in his hair. He chuckled.

            “Enjoying yourself, my dear?”

            “Less talking, more kissing,” you panted.

            He smiled against your neck before his lips moved back to yours and you threw every desire into the kiss. You showed him how you wanted him to lead you, to be gentle, but not too gentle with you. Experimenting, you ground your hips into his and he rewarded you with a moan. “Fuck, Y/N. I want you.”

            “Then take me.”

            He broke apart, holding you at arms length. Looking deep into your eyes. “Y/N. Are you sure this is what you want? That you’re truly ready and this isn’t just fleeting desire?”

            “I have wanted you since we starting dating. I want to be with you, for you to have me in a way that no one else does. You already have my heart, take my body too.”

            “Oh, Y/N,” he moaned and pulled you into his arms once more. His lips pressed to yours with urgency and you let him lead, your soft panting and exploring hands encouraging him. His chest, arms, hips, and rear were at the mercy of your touch. You gave his rear a little squeeze, which caused him to press hips impossibly closer to yours. You could feel his entire body against yours, the bone of his hip, his belt buckle, his arousal, his vibrating phone.

            “Shit,” he grunted against the ear he’d only just begun to nibble. “That’s probably work.”

            “Answer it.”

            “But - “

            “Answer it, I’m not going anywhere, work might,” you placed a gentle hand on his cheek and kissed his nose. 

            He smiled, nodded and answered the phone just before it cut to voice mail. The conversation was short, with little talking coming from his side. The occasional “yes,” “no,” or “of course,” was all it took. When he hung up he looked at you regrettably.

            “You have to go, don’t you?”

            “Not right now, but I have to be on a plane tomorrow at seven in the morning.”

            “Then we still have plenty of time,” you said, hopefully seductively, moving to wrap him in your arms.

            “Y/N,” he whispered, letting you kiss him, this time dreamily slow. “Y/N,” he said again, pulling away, “this isn’t how I want your first time to be.” Seeing your confused look he continued. “It shouldn’t be in a dorm where anyone walking by in the hall can hear, or when your roommate could come back anytime. It should be somewhere private, just you and me, in a bed built for two. There should be candles, not fluorescents,” he laid his hand on your cheek again. “I want your first time to be amazing, my dear.”

            You leaned into his touch and placed your hand over his. “As long as it’s with you, I can’t imagine it being anything less, but if you don’t want it to happen like this, I can wait until you’re ready,” reciting the same words he said to you time and time again. 

            He smiled and chuckled at you. “Thank you for understanding,” he kissed you softly on the lips before pulling away, sighing. “I should probably go and pack.”

            “Probably. How long will you be gone?”

            “A week,” there was a silence as you both thought about how long that would be. “Come to my place tonight? I’ll cook.”

            “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

            He kissed you once more before turning to leave. As he reached the door, hand on the knob, he turned back.

            “Y/N, do you ever think that I’m too old for you?” Worry etched his features. Where did this come from?

            “Because I’m still in college? Sweetie, I graduate this year. You’re only five years older than me. I don’t have a problem with our technical age difference. It seems to me that we’re either acting like six year olds, eating sweets and watching movies from inside pillow forts, or we’re discussing complex personal beliefs that old men sitting on porches sipping lemonade say is to complicated to talk about,” you hesitated before continuing. “Do you think I’m too young?”

            He rushed back to you, pulling you into a bear hug. “Never. I think you’re perfect for me. I just feel like an old man visiting you in a dorm.”

            “Cheaper than an apartment.”

            “I know. I love you. You are perfect to me in every way, and I love you.”

            “I love you, too, now go away. I have homework,” you teased, knowing you would spend more time figuring out what to wear tonight than doing your reading.

 


	2. What the Future Could Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at H/N's is even more special than you think.

            You knocked on his door and waited for an answer. You wore a black dress that you knew he love on you. It showed off all the right curves, and hid what you wanted it to. It came right to the top of your knees and the neckline was high enough to keep you modest, but low enough to make the imagination kick into overdrive. Your classic black pumps helped your posture, making your booty stick out a bit and forcing your chest forward.

            The door opened and he stood in front of you, breathless from managing the kitchen, probably cooking something divine. His casual wear from earlier had been replaced with a black suit and a green and grey tie you had given him. He smiled at the sight of you on his doorstep.

            “What wonderful thing did I do to be rewarded with a sexy young woman standing on my doorstep?” He asked, taking your hand and leading you inside.

            “I believe offering food cooked by an angel is a good place to start,” you kissed him lightly, trying not to leave a lipstick mark this early in the evening.

            “You look gorgeous, my dear,” he spun you around as though you were dancing. “I love the way you make that dress look,” he pulled you back in close, arms wrapped tightly around you.

            “And you look like James Bond, but better. I like your tie.”

            “Mmmm, a siren gave it to me,” he winked at you.

            “A siren? And she didn’t have your way with you before throwing you into the sea to drown?”

            “Not yet,” he said seriously, looking deeply into your eyes.

            “I would never let you drown in the sea,” you whispered.

            “No?”

            “No. What if I wanted a second round?” You grinned; you could never hide the smart-aleck for long.

            He nudged your side with his elbow, “Smartass. Come on, dinner’s almost ready. What would you like to drink?”

            You followed him into the dining room. He’d lit it completely with candles. Several were on the table, and more sat on the drinks cart. Your favorite flowers were on the table, and the smell of pasta and sauce came wafting in from the kitchen. In the background classical music played. You recognized Blue Danube and smiled even wider. You were so caught up in the abeyance that you forgot he was talking to you.

            “Dear?”

            “You did all this in one afternoon?”

            “I may have had a little help,” he admitted sheepishly.

            “Whoever it was, thank them for me. This is breathtaking. Thank you.”

            “You’re the one who’s breathtaking. Now, how about that drink?”

            You placed your order and he handed it to you before ushering you to sit, pulling out your chair for you and kissing your hand, promising to be right back before disappearing into the kitchen. He returned moments later with pasta, sauce, salad, and bread sticks.

            The food was amazing. The conversation was easy, as always. You told him about your classes and how excited you were for the book you were reading. He told you a bit about the job that would take him away from you. It was a wonderful opportunity for him and you were excited for him, and you told him so. He looked at you skeptically, but you assured him that though you were going to miss him, you were more excited that he had such an opportunity. That made him smile and reach across the table to kiss you.

            After dinner he asked you to dance. Neither of you were ever really excited about dancing, He said it was because tall people don’t dance and you said it was because you never knew what to do with your body, you felt stiff and dances should flow. You took his hand when he offered it and led you to the living room. He’d moved the coffee table out of the way and had music ready. The tune was soft and slow and he held you close. One of your hands was in his held to the side and the other he held to his chest.

            “I might step on your shoes,” you whispered.

            “They need to be stepped on,” he whispered back.

            The dance went on and on. Eventually you rest your head against his chest and his arms slid down to hold you at the small of your back. You breathed in his scent, memorized the feeling of his chest against you, committed to memory the sound of his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breathing.

            “Y/N?” You realized he had stopped moving and was looking down at you.

            “Yes?”

            “You okay?”

            “I was just trying to memorize all of you. This second. I want to remember it forever,” you looked up at him, praying he would understand. His eyes told you that he understood everything. 

            “Follow me,” he took your hand and led you to his balcony. It was small and housed a couple potted plants and a small chair that he often sat in to read. He ushered you to sit and he stood in front of you, smiling.

            “Remember when we met, accidentally running into each other in the supermarket? And you said that you always wondered if running into some stranger would change your life?”

            “And you pulled out the smoothest pick up line in history?” You remembered his quick response ‘If you want to find out, come to dinner with me.’ You’d never fallen for a pick up line before, but that one was good, and he smiled so sweetly when he’d said it that you said yes and given him your number.

            “That was the beginning of the best part of my life. I’m happiest when you’re by my side and when you aren’t there is this emptiness that doesn’t go away until I hear your voice. I don’t want to live without you by my side”

            You watched him pour out his heart. His hands moving a bit as he spoke. He lowered himself to one knee and your eyes widened with realization, mouth slightly agape. He pulled a small box out of his pocket.

            “Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

            Your eyes were locked with his. Speech was beyond you. You slipped onto your knees and threw your arms around his neck. You kissed him with fervor, hoping that would give him an answer. You pulled back to see if he got the message.

            “I really hope that’s a ‘yes’?”

            “Yes. Yes. I’ll marry you. Yes,” your words were rushed and formal sentences were still beyond your reach, so you hugged him again. He chuckled and hugged you back, too shocked the first time to react; he made up for it now.

            “Mind if I slip this on your finger?” He whispered, slowly and carefully pulling away, not sure if he was about to be attacked with affection again.

            You nodded, biting your lip to contain your smile. Too much longer and your face would hurt from grinning so wide. He pulled the ring from the box and you gasped. It was beautiful. A silver band with a diamond in the center. It was simple and you teared up remembering a discussion a month into your relationship in which you defended the simple and expressing your confusion at huge engagement rings. 

            “You remembered,” you choked out, voice breaking.

            “Of course I remembered. I knew then that you would be the woman I would marry,” he said softly as his slightly shaky hand carefully slipped the ring onto your very shaky hand. It fit perfectly.

            He looked at you, eyelashes shading his eyes a bit. “I love you.”

            “And I love you.”

            “Y/N, I don’t think you’re going to like what I’m about to suggest, but just hear me out,” he started, knowing that you would listen carefully before accepting or rejecting his suggestion. “I know that we both want each other. I think we both demonstrated that very clearly earlier today,” your eyes fluttered at the memory of him pressed against you and he shuddered, vividly remembering the moans you had emitted when he sucked at your neck. “But, I really want your first time to be special . . .” he drifted off, hoping you would catch on, so he didn’t have to say it to you.

            “You want us to wait until the wedding night. Our wedding night,” you finished for him.

            “Yes. If you don’t want to wait, I understand. It’s your decision, and trust me when I say that I am ready whenever you are, as long as you are sure that it’s what you want,” he was so focused on making sure it was special. You suddenly realized what it must have been like for him: a man used to sex being part of a relationship went nine months without for you, and he still wants to wait so that it’s special for you, putting your needs ahead of his.

            You breathed deeply, trying to think through it carefully. “Honey, you’ve waited a long time, I don’t want to make you wait any longer.”

            “This isn’t about me, or how long I’ve been without. If that were important to me then I wouldn’t have pursued a relationship with someone who told me up from that sex was off the table. This is about your first time and what it can be, if you want it.”

            His eyes pierced yours. You could feel him trying to make you stop worrying about him, but you would always worry. It was a talent of yours, and worrying about him happened so often that it was almost a hobby. You swallowed. You wanted him, but you were raised by parents who didn’t really approve of sex before marriage, even though your mother made sure you knew that decision was yours and she wouldn’t love you any less, especially with the importance that society placed on sex.

            But here was a man, _the_ man, offering to wait even longer - an unspecified amount of time. A man who knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you. A man who knew that had he not gotten a phone call earlier that he could have already had you.

            “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”

            “Let’s wait,” you said, snapping back to reality, wiping a tear from your face.

            “What’s this? Tears?” His concern made another tear pop out. He reached over to wipe it away.

            “The man I love just asked me to marry him. That same man just said he would wait until our wedding night, after already waiting nine months, to make love to me. I am the luckiest woman in the world. No, I am the luckiest person in the world. I think I’m entitled to a tear or two of joy.”

            “You certainly are entitled, but I think I’ve got you beat on luck. You see, the woman that I love just agreed to marry me. I have loved this woman since our first date, when she spoke in broken Arabic to our newly immigrated Egyptian server, and made me feel like the most important man in the world by the way she listened to me.

            “The woman I love is gentle, compassionate, funny, independent, and yet she is a fearless leader to those in her care, not afraid to tell someone off or set the record straight. She has a presence about her that lets you know that she won’t take shit from anyone, and at the same time she is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.

            “If that doesn’t make me the luckiest, happiest person in the world, then nothing will,” he looked deep into your eyes. You leaned into him and let him capture your lips with his. It was brief, because he pulled away, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

            “We have to call people and tell them!”

 

~+~+~

 

            You were determined to graduate before you said “I do,” and H/N completely supported you.

            “You sure? There’s going to be lots of studying and I might ignore you for a bit.”

            “I remember from the last two times you had finals. You turn into a recluse. One time I called to see how you were and you didn’t recognize my voice,” he chuckled remembering how confused you had been that day.

            “I did that? I don’t remember that,” your brow furrowed as you tried to recall ever not recognizing the sound of that deep beautiful voice.

            “Yes. It was cute, in a weird neglectful way. But seriously, don’t worry. I’ll take care of the wedding, you take care of finals. And I promise to call you before making any major decisions.”

            “Make all the decisions you want. The cake has to have chocolate, the flowers should probably be a light color rather than bright - talk to our mothers about that though, I have no idea - and you have the list of songs I want played,” you said

            “A relatively short list at that,” he retorted.

            “Yes, but those are the only songs that I really want. I give you free reign of the wedding planning. Oh, and I want you in a suit or tux, you get pick which. Otherwise you could make it a Middle Earth themed wedding if you wanted,” you said. You had told him that you would be happy to elope with him after graduation and skip the expensive wedding, but he wanted “to show off to the world that I got the best woman on Earth to marry me,” and how could you say no after that?

            “You actually wouldn’t mind that at all, would you?” He asked, smirking.

            “Actually, now that you mention it, we should definitely have a Middle Earth themed wedding. Do you want the groomsmen dressed as elves, dwarves, or hobbits?” You asked sassily.

            "Y/N!” He tried to fuss at you but couldn’t keep a straight face.

            “They’re all pretty tall, so it would make more sense for them to be elves, even if they do have beards worthy of the line of Durin,” you went on, teasing your frustrated fiancé.

            “Why am I marrying you again?” He whispered, a smile on his face as he leaned in closer to you.

            “Hmmmm, maybe because you want spend the rest of your life in marital bliss, coming home to your sweet wife everyday with a baby on her hip and a hot dinner on the table?” You suggested sarcastically.

            “That can’t be it,” he shook his head, you’d both agreed that kids were off the table as an option, at least for the next eight years. You both felt you were too young to even consider raising a child, and neither of you were certain that you wanted to. And he knew that you didn’t cook.

            “You want to sleep with me?”

            “Certainly an excellent reason, but that’s more of a bonus.”

            “Really? Because that’s why I’m marrying you,” you teased, glad to see him smile in return.

            “I think it has something to do with loving you more than life itself,” he said against your lips.

            “Mmmmm, love. Yes. An excellent reason for marriage,” you mumbled as he kissed you.

            You pulled away, arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders to keep him in place. You looked deep into his eyes. “I know I joke a lot, but you do know that I love you, right? I love you more than I thought it possible to love someone. I would go to the end of the Earth for you. I would move mountains, swim oceans and battle dragons for you. I love you,” you had to make sure that he knew that you loved him as deeply as he loved you, even if you weren’t always as romantic in the way you expressed yourself.

            “I know, My Dear. I love you, too. Now, about the wedding invitations . . ."

 

 

~+~+~

 

            You took your father’s arm and looked at him. “I love you, Daddy.”

            “I love you too,” he smiled back at you, glad that you found someone that made you happy.

            “Any last minute advice?”

            He chuckled. “You’re mother would be a better person to ask. You’re going to do fine. The ceremony will be beautiful and you will be a wonderful wife. And he will be a good husband.”

            “Thank you,” you whispered, hearing your cue. You hugged your father one last time and the pair of you began to walk down the aisle. 

            Two months ago you had received your Bachelor’s Degree and had a job lined up to start in mid-August. In a week you would be moving into a new apartment with H/N. Today you were getting married. You squeezed your father’s arm in excitement, unable to contain your happiness.

            He was standing at the end, waiting for you. He had been looking down at his shoes, but when the music started his head shot up. As his eyes landed on you he smiled, eyes crinkling. He looked at your dress and his mouth was a little slack. Your white gown was a perfect fit for you. It brushed the floor, but didn’t drag (you saw no need for a train). The lace cap sleeves led to a sweetheart neckline. The dress didn’t poof out, it swung freely at your hips, but there was no tulle, (it would get in the way you told the disappointed woman in bridal shop) and there was a lace overlay. Your veil matched the overlay and hung just low enough to meet the top of your dress.

            When you reached him you whispered an excited “Hi.”

            “Hi. You look, wow, you look beautiful.”

            You blushed and bit your lip behind your thin veil. You knew he could still see your face through it and he saw the tears threatening to spill.

            “Joy?” He needed confirmation.

            “Joy."

            The preacher and your father chuckled lightly, exchanging amused smiles. Your father placed your hand in H/N’s and took his seat, and the ceremony began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any good? I'd love any feed back!


	3. I'm Sure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You enjoyed your wedding, but now you want to enjoy your husband.

            The wedding had been beautiful. You exchanged rings and became each other’s for life. Now you were in the hotel room eating the take away burgers you had picked up on the way to the hotel. The table was littered with ketchup packets and napkins.

            “Our first meal alone as husband and wife, and we picked burgers,” he was slightly amused, but not complaining. The drive had been long and you were both famished.

            You shrugged, “I warned you that I didn’t like to cook.”

            He laughed. “Good thing I do,” he stole a fry.

            “I knew there was a reason I married you,” you stole back a fry.

            When you were finished eating and the mess had been cleaned up, you excused yourself to the restroom. You wanted to put on the lingerie you got for this night. You had spent a whole day with your best friend trying on frilly pieces of lace and satin and string until you found the perfect one. You slipped it on and pulled on the robe you had bought to go with it that, thankfully, wasn’t see-through.

            You emerged from the bathroom to see his back turned to you, unpacking your luggage. Silently you strode across the room and wrapped your arms around him. He stopped what he was doing and put his hands behind him to try to hold you. His hands slipped on the soft fabric of your robe and he spun around.

            “Y/N,” he breathed. His eyes took you in. The opening of your robe was low enough so that just a bit of the white lace of the lingerie showed. The robe came a few inches above your knee and showed the bare skin of your legs nicely.

            Your hands fluttered up his sides to his arms, where they finally wrapped around his biceps. He watched you intently as you let your eyes rake over his form. You leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips. Pulling away you made eye contact, taking a deep breath you gained the courage to say what you really wanted.

            “I love you, H/N L/N, and I want you to make love to me,” your statement sounded like a question. You looked up at him, watching, waiting for a response.

            “I love you, Y/N HL/N. And nothing would make me happier,” he kissed you. It was soft, but held promises. His hands smoothed up and down your sides and massaged the flesh at your waist. You rose up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened when you let your fingers move against the back of his neck, brushing the hair that touched the sensitive skin. It was his weak spot, every time you lay on the couch together you would let your fingers graze the skin there, it made him melt against you, every single time. This was no different.

            He walked forward, making you step backwards, toward the bed. Feeling the back of your knees hit the bed you put your hands on top of his and guided them to the belt of your robe. Realization made him pull back from your lips. His eyes locked with yours, searching you for any sign of hesitation.

            “You’re sure?” He was barely audible, knowing what your answer would be, but asking anyway.

            “I’m sure.”

            His hands slowly undid the bow you had tied and pushed the robe open to look at you. He froze, hands on your waist, just looking at you. Mouth slightly open.

            You tilted your head so that you could catch his eyes. “Dear? Is something wrong?” You suddenly felt nervous. He’d never seen you even close to naked, what if he didn’t -

            “You look magnificent,” his words interrupted your thoughts, shocking you, making you blush. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered into you ear before biting it. His large hands moved to your rear and pulled you flush against him. You could feel him through his jeans, and you ground your hips against him, earning a soft moan from your husband’s lips. He claimed his territory, biting then licking your neck.

            Your hands moved across his back, occasionally gripping his shoulders for support when he bit a particularly sensitive nerve. You didn’t want him to stop what he was doing, but you really wanted to see him too. Softly you pushed him away and when he began to protest you put a finger against his lips and shook your head.

            Deft fingers turned shaky with anticipation and you had a little trouble with the first button. His fingers wrapped around yours, helping you strip him. His white button down was quickly pushed off his shoulders. You pulled his undershirt out of the waistband of his jeans and told him to lift his arms so you could pull it off him, which was only slightly amusing because of the height difference. He kept kissing what he could reach as you popped the button on his jeans on pull down the zipper. Grasping the material you yanked his jeans halfway down his thighs and curiosity got the better of you.

            Gently you place your hand against his bulge. You knew it was sensitive area and you didn’t want to accidentally hurt him. He pushed into your touch. You let your hand mold to him and you flexed your hand, slowly moving your arm, massaging him through his gray boxer briefs. Ragged breaths filled the air and you realized that it wasn’t just you. You smiled to yourself, to know that you were making your husband pant with need.

            You screamed in surprise when he lifted you without warning, placing you on the bed. He stepped the rest of the way out his jeans and moved toward you, hunger in his eyes. Strong lips met yours as he leaned over you. Scooching back you gave him room to climb onto the bed. In doing so he hovered over you, trapping you between his body and the mattress. He pressed the length of his body against you, making sure you felt every pane of his body, every muscle, every inch of his arousal. He pinned your hands above your head and kissed down your body until lace stopped him.

            “Mmmmmm. What to do about all this pretty white lace?” He rubbed his nose on the lace in the dip between your breasts. “Should I remove it? Or should I . . .” He trailed off as he kissed your breast, coming to your nipple he sucked on it through the fabric. You gasped in surprise and arched your back, pushing your breast further into his hot mouth. “I think we have a winner,” he chuckled. It was only now that you realized how much deeper his voice had gotten, how husky it was when he chuckled and the sound went straight to your whoo-ha.

            He gave your other breast the same treatment, lightly biting, swirling his tongue around you, flicking it gently. You moaned, and when he began to move to kiss your stomach you begged him to go back.

            “Not yet, dear,” he purred seductively against your stomach, kissing a line down to the thin gap between the top of your lingerie and your panties. His hands moved to your rear and pushed your hips up. Nose met thigh as he gently rubbed his face against the inside of both your thighs, kissing you, biting you, teasing you, keeping friction from the place you needed it most.

            “Please,” you finally whimpered.

            “What is it you want?” He looked up at you from his position between your legs, eyelashes shading his eyes, an innocent yet devilish grin on his face, making his eyes crinkle.

            “Please,” you repeated, embarrassed to ask for what you wanted.

            “Tell me, Y/N,” he traced a solitary finger from your ankle to your knee. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it,” his palm flattened against your knee and slid up your thigh to the side seam of your panties, fingers playing with edges.

            “Touch me, H/N. Touch me, please,” you pleaded.

            “As my wife wishes,” he smiled and slid his hand between your thighs.

            You’d never been touched there before. The feel of his large, warm, foreign yet familiar hand massaging you made you even wetter. You knew he could feel it, but you couldn’t be bothered to be ashamed of how he turned you on. 

            “Oh, Y/N, you’re so wet. So warm, and wet,” he purred, rubbing in a circular motion over a spot that had you bucking into his touch.

            “Only for you,” you murmured back, unsure if he could hear you over the sound of your combined panting.

            “Say that again. Tell me about it,” he said, though it sounded like a question, a plea.

            “You want me to tell you that your hands are the first to touch me? Your lips the first to wrap around my nipples? You want to know about how you’re the only person on this earth to make me moan in pleasure? The only one to make me buck into your hand?” Once you started you couldn't stop.

            He groaned at your words, but he removed his hand. His hands gripped your hips and you sat straight up.

            “Wha- wh- why did you stop? Did I say something wrong?” You managed your words between panting for air.

            “No! You are magnificent. But this night is about you. I want to lavish you with pleasure so you’re ready for me,” he held your face in hands. “You are driving me to the edge of sanity, and there is so much more I want to do to you before we get to where we’re going. I haven’t even gotten you naked yet,” he whispered gently, smiling reassuringly at you. You smiled back and wiggled your hips under him.

            “There’s still the issue of me being extremely turned on you kind of stopped very suddenly, which was quite rude,” you pretended to scold and he pretended to hang his head in shame.

            “I better do something about that then, shouldn’t I?” His mouth claimed yours without waiting for a response. You felt his hands slide around your back and make quick work of the hooks that held your top on. He bunched it up and pulled it off you, breaking the kiss only long enough to get it over your head. He took special care of your now exposed breasts, kneading them gently, kissing the sensitive skin around your nipples and tenderly nipping at the underside of your breasts.

            “You are beautiful. All of you, purely magnificent,” he murmured.

            “Not pure for long,” you moaned as his flicked a nipple with his tongue. You rubbed your legs together to get the friction you craved, the friction he was denying you, again.

            “Not if I have anything to say about it,” his voice rumbled against your breast and you whimpered. His hands fluttered down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. Lips brushed against the sensitive skin just above your panties. He let his forehead rest on your lower stomach. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined this? Imagined us? Imagined you? Do you know that you are better than anything I could have ever imagined?” His voice was soft, like he needed to convince you of how precious you were before proceeding.

            “H/N. I love you.”

            “I love you, too. And I plan on showing that, right now,” He tugged on the sides of your drenched panties and you lifted your hips to help him. You heard your white panties drop to the floor and it struck you that you were completely bare before another human being for the first time in your life.

            You could feel his body between your legs as he adjusted your position, drawing your knees up and angling your hips so that he full access to the apex of your thighs. His fingers resumed their earlier ministrations, but this time without a cloth barrier in the way of what you though was pure magic.

            The air mingled with your moans and his praises. “You’re so wet, oh Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he moaned. He eased a finger inside you and you clench around the intrusion.

            “Relax, My Dear, relax. Let me pleasure you,” his deep voice was soothing and your body relaxed, giving him room to move his finger in and out of you. Your eyes closed as you let yourself give in to the sensation, feeling yourself climbing higher and higher. Then you felt something new and hot and wet. You looked down to see what he was doing and OH.

            His mouth was pressed against you as his finger moved inside you. You felt him add another finger and his tongue flicked against your clit. Tension built up like a coil inside of you. Your panting grew louder and your moans more desperate.

            “You taste amazing,” he grunted “If heaven had a taste, it would taste like you,” his words tipped you over the edge.

            “Please, oh please, H/N!!” You screamed out his name as your first orgasm came crashing. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, heels digging into the mattress, head tossed back. He slowed, and you tugged on his shoulders, drawing his attention up to your face. You smiled lazily at him and beckoned for him to join you at the head of the bed, which he did.

            You kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue and you both moaned softly.  You twisted so that you were straddling him, shaky legs hovering over his lap. Strong hands gripped your hips, holding you in place. You kissed down his neck, licking and biting as he had done to you, your hands preceding your mouth. Each nipple had its turn in your mouth before you traveled further south, rubbing his still clothed arousal with your palm. He let his hips grind into your hand, head falling back and a low rumble escaping his chest that went straight to your core.

            “Y/N, Y/N, please,” he panted.

            “Yes, my husband?” You asked innocently.

            “I, I won’t be able to control myself if you don’t stop,” he said through gritted teeth. He let out a shaky breath when you moved your hands to his pants and tugged them off, freeing his erection. Your eyes widened. He was beautiful, lying naked beneath you, a sheen of sweat covering his body, fully hard because of you. But he was also huge. Even though you didn’t have a lot of experience, you knew enough to know that he was above average, and you heard enough stories from your friends to worry.

            Seeing your wide eyes he leaned up and took your face in his hands and kissed you gently on the lips before looking into your eyes. “We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready. We have the rest of our lives.”

            “No, I want this. I want you,” you whispered urgently. 

            “Y/N, you’re sure?”

            “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Please.”

            “You have me,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you gently, letting you choose when to kick up the passion. When you did it was wild. He moved so that you were once again on your back, with him positioned between your legs. He rubbed his length against your already wet folds and suddenly you were impossibly wetter. 

            Your moans mingled in the air and you wiggled your hips the best you could against him. His hand was on you again, massaging you, teasing your entrance and your clit. Your fingers dug into his shoulders and he eased a finger inside you and you readily accepted him, mewling for more. He obliged, adding another finger. He curled his fingers inside of you in a come hither motion. You arched and moaned loudly.

            “Please, please, H/N, I need you. I can’t wait any longer. Please,” you begged. 

            “Mmmmmmm,” he responded, withdrawing his fingers, with an obscene wet sound that made him bite his lip. He adjusted your position and positioned himself at your entrance, you could feel his blunt head and you tensed in anticipation. He knew and moved a hand to circle your clit, murmuring to you to calm you.

            “You’re wonderful, Y/N, I just need you to relax for me, like you did for my fingers, remember? Relax for me. Just like that. Just a little bit more, baby. Let me make this good for you,” his voice flowed like honey and you felt the tension fall away. He kept talking to you as he pushed, little by little, inside you.

            He stretched you and you felt filled to the point of bursting. The stretch you felt was unusual, but terrific, nothing like what your friends had described.

             He waited for you to adjust, watching your face carefully. Your eyes were closed, first squeezed tight as he filled you, an involuntary reaction to the unusual sensation of being so full. He watched your face relax as your muscles had. You forced yourself to breath and opened your eyes, immediately locking with his.

            “Are you okay?” Worry mixed with the lust in his almost black eyes, the color barely making an appearance at the edge of his extremely dilated pupils.

            You smiled, nodded and kissed him. He began to move, slowly. You felt pleasure spread through your body. Your hands still roamed his chest, eventually gripping his shoulders for purchase as he moved faster and faster. As he sped up he grabbed a thigh and pulled it upward. Following his lead you wrapped both of your legs around his waist, changing his angle so that he hit a spot deep inside you that had you seeing white and calling out obscenities, cursing and praising him at the same time.

            “Oh, fuck, H/N. You’re amazing. Please, oh H/N yes,” you cried. Your words slipped into moans as he kept going, hitting that spot over and over, as though your bodies were made for each other.

            “You’re. So. Tight. So. Hot,” he punctuated each word with a thrust and your body began to move with and against his, meeting his thrusts, hesitantly at first and then harder as he moaned in approval.

            Pressure was building up again, and you knew it would be so much bigger than last time just from the way you felt it in your stomach. His hand wandered down to your clit and circled it, rubbed it. The bastard even did a figure eight that had you so close to the edge.

            “Please, H/N, please,” you pleaded for what felt like the millionth time that night.

            “What, Y/N? Tell me. I want to hear you ask for it,” he purred at you. What his voice did to you was indescribable. 

            “Make me come, for you. Make me come screaming your name,” you rushed out.

            “Anything for my wife,” he almost growled, voice low and husky, his hips snapped, fingers circled simultaneously and you were lost. You cried out his name as you came hard. He kept thrusting into you, riding out your orgasm and the way your muscles tightened around him. Then his rhythm faltered as he lost all control as he peaked, calling your name.

            He collapsed on top of you and you stroked his hair, kissed his forehead and let your eyes close in bliss. Nothing could be better than this. Lying in bed with your husband, the love of your life, both of you spent from lovemaking.

            Reluctantly he pulled out of you, making you feel oddly empty, before laying next to you and pulling you into his chest, covering you both with soft cotton sheets. His fingers trailed lightly over your bare arm and you snuggled into him, kissing whatever skin was in your reach.

            “Thank you,” you whispered as you pressed another kiss to the hollow of his neck.

            “I should be thanking you. You are amazing,” he argued.

            You blushed. “Don’t exaggerate,” you chastised.

            “I’m not. That was the best sex I’ve had in my life,” he said simply. You beamed at the praise.

            “Me too,” you giggled, looking up at him. He smiled at you and together you fell into a fit of giggles. He held you close to him and you knew that you were where you were meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! I hope that at least one person enjoyed this story. Comments/Feedback are greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time posting any of my writing so I hope you like it!


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